The Hotel

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  The Hotel

  Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  Copyright © 2020 Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN: 9798634091587

  Cover design by: Mike LaChance & Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  AVA

  EMILY

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Acknowledgement

  About The Author

  Prologue

  When my ear was first pressed flat against the wall and nothing was heard, it came as a confused relief. But all too soon, the silence was replaced with the deep male grunts and groans, only to be surpassed by the squeaks and moans of the high-pitched female. Oohs and aahs like I’d never heard before. My nauseated stomach could barely take it. My heart cracked open with a piercing pain. My brain felt as if it was about to explode. Why was I doing this to myself? A glutton for punishment. That’s what I must be. Why else would I be here in a sleazy subpar motel in the middle of the night with my ear glued to a paper-thin wall? And, even after hearing those awful sexual noises with my own ears, I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact my husband was cheating on me. There was only one thought hammering inside my head ... he was going to pay almighty hell for this...

  ...Coming to after a drunken stupor, when I looked at the very bloody and very dead mess of what used to be my husband, I realized it might be me who was going to pay almighty hell for this...

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  (Sunday - Nine Days Before)

  After closing the front door and locking it, a warm beam of sunlight stretched from the sky, landing pleasantly on my face. A smile spread my lips, looking forward to a family day, one far too long in the making. Adjusting my shades, I strolled down the bricked, herringbone path and out to our older model, dark gray Honda CR-V, to where my husband was busy loading the contents of his arms into the back of the cargo area.

  “Thanks hon, you’re a doll,” Greg said, taking the wicker picnic basket and situating it so it wouldn’t slide around.

  “Come on Ava, let’s go,” I called to our eight-year-old daughter, now going on twenty-one. She stopped chasing a yellow butterfly long enough to turn and glare at me, hands on hips and giving me a look like I was a demon.

  “I wanna catch it,” she whined, watching the wide-winged insect flutter its magnificent wings and take flight. “Aww, look how beautiful he is.” Chasing it to the next bush, it lit and began opening and closing its wings. “Wait, I can get him.”

  “Honey, its wings are very delicate. If you grab hold and tear them, he might never be able to fly again,” I warned her.

  “Ever?” she asked unbelievingly, a doubtful expression forming on her face like I must be making it up.

  “Ever,” I said firmly. “Besides, we need to get on the road. So, let’s go.”

  “Fine okay, whatever,” she retorted with plenty of attitude. She turned her face down into a pitiful frown and tromped defiantly to the car. Crawling into her seat and buckling herself in, she continued her pout. “I wish Sarah was going. I need someone to play with.”

  Greg turned and grinned at our precious little beauty. “Don’t worry honey, you can play with me,” Greg sweetly offered. “We’re going to have a blast. Just you wait and see.”

  Ava was the spitting image of her dad, both with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But, unlike my tall husband of six-one, Ava was small for her age, inheriting her height gene from me, or should I say lack thereof? I was only five-two and, unless Ava had a growth spurt, we were both destined to keep stepping stools around the house.

  Ava gave him a skeptical look. “I hope so Dad. Mom wouldn’t let me bring my iPad. I’m probably going to die of boredom.”

  Greg let out a soft chuckle and patted Ava on her leg. “Are we set?” he asked turning back around in his seat and giving me a questioning look.

  My brain went rapidly through a mental checklist, hoping I hadn’t forgotten anything. “I think we’re good to go,” I said with a nod of my head.

  “Then let’s hit the road.” Greg leaned over and kissed me, and I smiled back at my handsome husband. Starting the engine and rolling down the driveway, he checked for any traffic coming down our quaint suburban street and then backed out onto the street. “And we’re off,” he declared.

  One block later, Ava asked, “How far is it anyway?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just over an hour, honey.”

  One mile later, Ava asked, “Are we ever going to be there?”

  “It won’t be long,” I told her. “Just enjoy the scenery.”

  “Mom, we’re still in town,” she pointed out. “I’ve seen all this stuff my whole entire life.”

  I ignored her.

  Another ten miles later, Ava asked, “Are we there yet?”

  I sighed. “We’re getting closer every time the wheels go around.”

  Five miles later, Ava asked, “Why couldn’t I have my iPad at least for the drive? I’m dying back here.”

  My irritation pumped up.

  Greg grinned. “Let’s play a game.”

  Ava sat up straighter. “What kind of game, Dad?”

  “I don’t know. Let me think.” He paused for a moment. “Oh, what about counting cars?”

  “Yes,” she boldly answered. “What doesn’t count?”

  We had played this game on previous road trips, but since Ava had become engrossed in her iPad, we hardly ever played car games anymore.

  “Hmm, let me think,” Greg pondered. “No blacks, grays, whites, reds or blues. Now pick your color.”

  “Dad, what colors are left?”

  “You’re older now Ava. Games increase in difficulty with age,” Greg told her.

  She thought about it for a while. “Yellow,” she finally answered.

  Greg eyed me for my choice. “Silver,” I answered.

  “Mom! That’s like gray. You can’t pick that color. You’re gonna win.” She kicked her foot at my seat. “Dad, tell her she’s cheating.”

  Greg bit back a smile. “Well, Emily, you think you can pick another color? Make this a real competition.”

  I sneered at them both. “Fine … green then.”

  “Brown for me,” Greg declared. “Ready ... set ... go,” he called out.

  And so the game began, and before we knew it, we were pulling into Layton Park and finding a parking space three rows back in a slightly crowded lot. Greg popped the cargo lid, and we began hauling stuff out ... blanket, picnic basket, cooler, a container of wet wipes and sunscreen, along with a few other items.

  “Here hon, will you carry the blanket?�
�� I asked of Ava, holding it out for her to take.

  “If I must,” she dryly answered. Ava was really a sweet, obedient child. But she had a sassy side to her when she thought she’d be bored, or wanted her way, or didn’t want to do something. Today she was being a little contrary because she couldn’t fathom sitting on a blanket while eating could possibly be any fun, not to mention our little adventure was going to cost her a day’s worth of iPad, cartoons and chatting with Sarah on Facetime. Right now, she perceived her parents as overbearing ogres and today was nothing but sheer torture and harsh punishment.

  “You must. And here,” I said, handing her the king-sized, multi-colored quilt while I grabbed a handful of our paraphernalia and Greg did the same.

  The early May weather was perfectly pleasant for a picnic. White fluffy clouds lazily wafted along, intermittently shutting off bright sunny rays. Once we left the cemented parking lot behind us, we entered a different world where the weather dropped ten degrees under the shady giant pecan trees. Songbirds serenaded us, mixing with laughter from nearby families. Pausing for a moment to scan our surroundings, my eyes roved from one flowering bed to the next, each filled with striking white petunias boldly standing out against leafy green trees and lush green grass. The lovely scent from flowering jasmine and freshly mowed grass filled my nostrils. For a moment, we stood in awe of the spectacular beauty and then quickly scouted out the best location for our picnic.

  Along the edge of a creek running on the far side of the park, patchwork blankets dotted the landscape under a grove of pecan trees, providing shade to all having the same idea we had. Greg squinted, surveying the limited possibilities remaining for any sense of separation from others.

  “How about over there?” Greg suggested, pointing to a lone grassy spot under the canopy of a giant pecan tree and slightly away from nearby groups.

  “Yes, it’s perfect,” I agreed, quickly looking around and hoping we weren’t going to have to race anyone for the space. While the park was packed with families, couples, and even singles with dogs, it surprised me that this area hadn’t already been snatched up. “Grab it,” I urged Greg when I noticed a family of four heading the same direction.

  Greg threw a look over his shoulder and noticed the group coming up fast. “I’m on it,” he replied snatching the blanket from Ava and picking up his pace. Quickly unloading his hands, he fluffed the blanket out, letting it settle to the ground like a floating feather. “There,” he declared in victory after marking our territory.

  “Good job,” I praised, arriving on-site after crossing a vast lawn of lush green grass. While I busied myself unloading my arms and setting up the meal, Ava and Greg went to check out the sounds of trickling water coming from a nearby creek.

  “It’s ready,” I called to them from my perch atop the edge of the creek’s bank.

  Ava scowled in my direction. “I wanna play down here. This is awesome.”

  “Well, come eat first, and then you can go exploring.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled, climbing up from the side of the creek and trudging over to the blanket.

  After passing out plates, we chowed down on chicken tenders, mac and cheese, potato salad, and sliced watermelon.

  “Babe, this is delicious,” Greg complimented. “Thanks for doing this.”

  “Thank you,” I said looking adoringly at my broad-shouldered man. “I’m glad you finally managed a day off from work so we could finally spend some family time together.”

  Greg previously worked at Blevins & Howard, a small law firm with a moderate case load. His days were spent with much less pressure and it was easy for him to be home by six each night and available for family time every weekend. However, at the first of the year, just under five months ago, he was offered a position as a prosecutor with the Tarrant County District Attorney’s Office. While it was a sizeable increase in his salary, it changed his workload immensely. His career turned into one trial after another, with a lot of preparation time in between. Days were now filled with long work hours and he often hauled boxes of files home, further slicing into our personal time. Not surprisingly, the result had caused our relationship to fray at the seams. We hardly saw each other anymore and Ava saw even less of her father, since, by the time Greg returned home, Ava was already asleep. He wasn’t there to help her with her homework. There were no more sharing stories and no more tucking her in at night. She only briefly caught a glimpse of her father in the morning hours before he rushed out the door. As for us, even trace moments spent together were filled with distractions. It seemed every second of his life was spent either with his head in a file, typing on his computer, or worse, on the phone with Taylor. There was no denying it. The last five months of trying to fit into a new job had been taxing on him, me, and Ava. His work had consumed him, and it was destroying our relationship. Together time was worth a lot to me.

  Frankly, I had begun to doubt whether this job had really benefitted our little family. It would be nice to go back to those days when he was home every evening, giving me someone to chat about the day with. I missed our family games and watching TV together. I longed for the nights when, together, we tucked Ava into bed and then afterward the two of us spent time unwinding, relaxing on the couch and sharing a glass of wine. His constant working hours had affected our romance too. Our marital bed was left cold, void of human touch and tender kisses. Things weren’t what they used to be. His job had whittled away our relationship to the point it was taking a toll on us, causing a big worry knot to completely twist my insides. It went without saying, it took a lot to carve out a whole day for a family outing. While Ava was turning her nose up at today’s activities, my heart was brimming with joy.

  “That was yummy,” Greg said, letting out a good-sized belch.

  I frowned. Ava giggled.

  After gorging ourselves, I packed up the remains and placed them back in the basket. “Another water?” I asked, my eyes darting between Greg and Ava.

  “Yes please,” Ava answered while Greg gave me a nod and held out his hand.

  “Thanks babe,” he said, taking the bottle and twisting the top. After a long drag, he closed the bottle, rolled over and rested an elbow on the ground and propped his head against his hand. “I love you,” he said giving me a contented look.

  “I love you,” I responded, a giant smile lighting up my face. I leaned into him and put a tender kiss on his lips. “Perfect day, isn’t it?”

  “Just what the doctor ordered.” He leaned back and rested his head on a small pillow and peered up into the treetop. “Hey Ava, look.” He pointed out a bird’s nest.

  “Where, Dad?” She strained her eyes upward until she saw what he was noticing. “Oh yeah, I see it.” Just then the momma bird flew in and baby birds came alive with chirping. “Wow, that’s awesome.”

  The afternoon was spent with Ava and Greg “playing” in the creek bed. Ava’s little face brightly shined when she found an “interesting” rock, as she put it. Moments later she was elated at spotting a hawk and then chasing after a squirrel. It was hard to remember when I’d last seen her so happy. Greg too for that matter. Reverting into his carefree boyhood-days, his face was cemented with a giant smile.

  Over the next several hours, we frolicked up and down the creek. Ava poked a stick into a crawdad hole, unbelievably managing to get one to cling to a stem. When Ava felt she had exhausted every nook and cranny along the creek, we went back to retrieve the “interesting” rock to take home with us.

  For the rest of the evening, we spent ideal family time together. My husband looked so relaxed. My daughter was overjoyed. My heart was bursting with happiness. Today was the best day ever. Absolutely perfect. Too bad it wouldn’t last.

  ◆◆◆

  By the time we packed everything up, shook the blanket and folded it into a manageable square, and got on the road, we were tired beyond belief. My head fell on the backrest and I stretched my legs out in front of me.

  “Fun day, wasn’t it?”
I asked looking sideways at Greg and smiling.

  “Exhausting is more like it. I can’t wait to get home and kick my feet up on the couch.”

  “Dad when are you getting another day off work?” Ava asked. “I’m ready to do it again.”

  “Oh, is that right?” Greg retorted. “I didn’t think you wanted to go at all, and now you’re ready to go again?”

  “Dad,” she whined. “I just like being with you ... and it’s more fun when we’re playing together.”

  Greg chuckled. “Well, I’ll see what I can do, but it may be a while. My old bones are groaning, telling me they need to recover first. I’ve gotta do some downtime first before you run me ragged again.”

  In other words, Greg had too much work and couldn’t afford to take another day off.

  Ava giggled. “Daaad, you’re not old ... what’re you talk’n about?”

  “Well, we’ll see,” Greg said, placating her.

  On the outskirts of town, Greg gave me a wary look, one I’d grown to dislike and I felt myself squirming.

  “Hon, I need to stop by Taylor’s house and pick up a folder. It’s on the way and I need it to prepare for a hearing in the morning.”

  I bit back things my tongue wanted to say. It had been a perfect day and I didn’t want to ruin it. But at the same time, I was very much hoping to have the evening together with just me and Greg. Family time wasn’t the only thing lacking in our lives since he’d taken this new job position, adult time was sorely missing too.

  “Besides, you haven’t even met Taylor. And it’s just to pick up the documents,” he added. “It’s barely a side excursion.”

  The alternative would be for him to drop Ava and me back at the house so I could get Ava in bed. Then he’d go on his own. It would put him doubling back on the drive, taking up more time and it increased the chances of him getting bogged down in a conversation with Taylor. I could just imagine him showing up back at the house after not only was Ava in bed, but I’d also have given up and gone to bed myself. It was better to get it knocked out now, even though he’d still probably work until bedtime.